


The Place Where It Began

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU Timeline, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, low key mobster things, slight mention of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:11:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: She never imagined they would return to Gotham City, once they escaped she figured that was the end of it until she gets word that Elijah's parents are dead.





	1. Chapter 1

The newspaper arrives at their apartment inside of a manila envelope. There is no sign of who sent it, Gertrude almost feels anxious opening it; she remembers living in Gotham and how nothing good ever came in the form of an unmarked envelope. She peeks around the hallway, everything is silent; their neighbors are either out at their jobs or sleeping in after nights of binge drinking. She pulls back inside, closes and locks the door behind her; for some reason it feels as if she’s being watched and she hates herself the tiniest bit for being paranoid like that. It’s been a few years since she’s felt like she had to look over her shoulder; she thinks of the countless times that Elijah had wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissed the top of her head and promised her that nobody was looking for them.

She reminds herself of that now. Three years since they packed what they could and escaped Gotham. Gertrude makes her way over to the couch, she sits down and opens the envelope; next to her sits a little boy with a mop of black hair and green eyes that stare with intent at the cartoon on the small television set. She smiles fondly as she looks at her son, their son; he already is looking so much like his father. She returns her attention back to the envelop, fishes out the contents and feels this sense of panic when she sees it’s a newspaper from Gotham city.

On the cover of the paper is the typical she’s come to expect of Gotham; murder, several murders, and at each crime scene a pigs head was found. She assumes it has something to do with the mafia, but after spending two years in Gotham she really stopped expecting such typical things. As she flips through the thin musky smelling pages of the paper there is nothing that sticks out, not until she reaches a certain section. She tenses as she reads the words then re-reads them once more.

‘Clarice and Walter VanDahl found murdered.’

The words after some time almost lose their meaning, her eyes scan over the smaller letters beneath the headline, but she doesn’t retain every little detail. Words and sentences stand out to her; they were found in their car downtown, both shot in the head, and they are survived by a son. She’s actually a bit amazed the article mentions Elijah, that his parents allowed there to be any remaining evidence that they ever bore a son.

She leans back against the couch and lays the paper down on her lap, she contemplates just tossing it out. It’s been three years since they escaped Gotham city, they have a son now, and even if they aren’t doing all that well she feels they are happy. They’re better off in Central City than they ever were in Gotham, she almost fears what would happen if they go back. 

Again, she glances at her son, he’s still watching TV; he’s completely ignorant to the fact his mother is considering burning the newspaper that contains the news that his grandparents were murdered. She smiles sadly, he doesn’t even know that he had any grandparents to begin with.

“I have to show him, it’d be wrong not to.” She says finally mostly to herself.

Oswald turns his head to look at her, he scratches at his head further mussing his hair then looks back at the TV. 

She sighs and gets up from the couch, paper in hand. She makes her way down the rather short hall towards the bedroom at the end of the hall. Inside she finds her husband; sprawled out on their bed, shirtless and still sleeping. It’s well past noon, ever since dropping out of college and leaving the city he seems to sleep more; she worries its health related, but realistically she knows it mostly has to do with the fact he finally feels safe enough to sleep. 

Gertrude climbs onto the bed, she settles down by his side and reaches out petting her fingers through thick black hair that’s beginning to get long. He groans and moves closer to her, slings an arm across her lap and pulls wanting her closer. She giggles and moves to lay by his side, lets him curl up next to her hiding his face against her neck. 

“I need you to wake up baby.” She whispers, she lightly scratches her violet painted nails against the back of his neck, he shivers and kisses against her neck.

“Why?” He asks, tired and more than content to spend the day in bed with her.

“I have something I need you to see.”

She almost hates to break the state of content they have in their lives, things have been calm ever since leaving Gotham. 

He pulls back to look at her, she leans down kissing him gently. She pushes the newspaper against his chest before pulling away and sitting up, she watches out of the corner of her eye as he begins looking through the paper seeming confused before he spots the same article she had earlier. 

She moves to sit beside him, she rests her chin on his shoulder and again she looks at the article.

“They’re….They’re dead” He speaks the words softly, a matter of fact sound to the statement with little emotion. 

“I’m sorry darling.” She whispers, she presses a kiss against his shoulder.

He lays the paper to the side and now just stares down at the bed. She reaches out taking hold of his hand giving it a gentle squeeze, she isn’t entirely sure what to say or even what he might be feeling; his relationship with his parents had been rather complicated if not abusive. 

“I should probably go back there. God I can’t even believe I’m mentioned in this.” He smiles bitterly. “I remember dad telling me I’m a mistake and that I ruined the family name, I just assumed if anything ever happened to them I’d never know.” 

She presses a kiss against the side of his neck, she hums when she feels his fingers in her hair. “We’ll go with you, you don’t have to go back there alone.”

“Thank you, I know it’s the last place either of us wanted to go back to.” He voices what she feels, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m okay with going there, it helps we’ll be going there together and with our son. Much different than when we were leaving.”

He nods, gives her hand a gentle squeeze. She knows more is bothering him, but he isn’t in the mood to talk about it yet.

“I love you.” He whispers.

She smiles, she could never grow tired of hearing those words from him. “I love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

Oswald’s sitting on her lap, he’s looking out the car window seemingly fascinated by all the looming buildings that they pass by. Next to her sits Elijah looking out the window, he looks haunted. 

“Some things never change, Gotham’s still a shit hole.” He comments.

She lightly slaps his arm, he turns to look at her. “I told you, no cursing in front of Oswald.” She scolds.

Their son looks between the two of them curious as to what’s going on. 

“Doll he’s going to learn the words eventually and besides he’s already learned several…Colorful words in French thanks to you.” He says smiling at her.

She wants to bite back preferably in Russian, a language he still hasn’t gotten a handle of, but she refrains. 

He resumes staring out the window, watching as cop cars speed down the street. The city is loud, and smog filled, the air is polluted with sirens, screams, and the occasional gun shot. It’s odd to think, but she almost missed these sounds. 

The noise filled chaos fades as they head towards the outer edge of the city, a long strip of a drive that goes up a small hill and leads to the towering VanDahl estate. She can almost feel him tensing next to her, she knows he’s plagued by bad memories and fears. She reaches over and takes hold of his hand, she wants to offer him comfort in the form of words, but she isn’t sure exactly what to say. Still he seems rather grateful that she’s here with him, that he isn’t doing this by himself.

When they pull into the massive drive there’s a pause before he gets out of the car, she follows holding their son in her arms. They follow the driver up to the front door, everything about the mansion is intimidating and she remembers being so nervous the first day of working for this family. How uptight and rather tense Mrs. VanDahl had seemed, looking down at her as if she were something uncouth. Then she’d met Elijah who looked at her like she was an angel, he still did really, and she didn’t understand why.

They follow the man inside the massive home and into the main hall. There’s another man there waiting for them; he looks to be close to fifty, his hair is graying and thin, he looks tired and worn by a long life. His suit looks expensive, well made, and his dark eyes light up when he spots Elijah. He approaches them, extends his hand out to the young man.

“You must be Elijah.” He says, his voice is rough probably from years of smoking, but there’s something light to his tone.

Elijah shakes his hand, grip tight, he seems confused as to who the man is.

“Are you the attorney?” He questions.

The man laughs, releases his hand. “No, he’s in your father’s study waiting for you. I’m Carmine Falcone, I guess you wouldn’t remember me.”

Elijah smiles seeming bashful, embarrassed that he doesn’t remember this man. Then again his parents had lots of friends in suits and expensive dresses, dinners, and parties he wasn’t allowed to join in. 

“Sorry, I don’t remember you.”

“No offense is taken, you were just a little thing back then….About his age actually.” He says gesturing towards Oswald.

Gertrude sets the boy down on the floor, Oswald toddles forward approaching Carmine. 

Carmine kneels, pats the boy’s head and smiles fondly at him, he looks up at the child’s parents. “I have a son who’s about ten and a daughter who’s about five. Hell of a thing being a parent…. Your parents never mentioned that you had a kid.” He says standing again.

Elijah glances away. “They weren’t very approving.” He says, there’s a bitterness to his tone.

Gertrude takes hold of his hand, he looks over at her smiling. “This is my wife, Gertrude.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Carmine says taking her hand and placing a kiss against the top of it. “Now I suppose we should go talk to the lawyer, bastard’s been impatient to get out of here all morning.” 

They follow Carmine through the home as if they hadn’t lived here before, she can’t help but wonder how he knows Elijah’s family, and why he’s here. She has a suspicion that he’s in the mafia but doesn’t voice that concern.

In the study waits a lawyer who sits behind Elijah’s father’s desk. Folders and papers are laid out on the surface, he seems the slightest bit jittery when they enter the room, his focus mostly set on Carmine before his eyes settle on Elijah. 

It’s surprising to find out that despite their rather serious threat that Elijah’s parents didn’t write him out of their will. In fact it seems they wrote him in more than originally intended as if they knew that they would die sooner than later. The mansion, the shop, the corporations that his father had shares in, and of course other things that the lawyer didn’t feel like discussing. The man slid a folder towards him telling him there were some more private details to the will, items that his parents wanted him to read in private and not to be discussed out loud. She noted Elijah’s hesitation as he took hold of the folder, held it tightly in his hands, she had the feeling he knew more than he was letting on.

Once all is said and done the lawyer leaves rather hurriedly, now it’s just the four of them remaining.

Carmine leads Elijah off towards the sitting room telling him he wants to discuss something with him over drinks. Gertrude takes the opportunity to revisit the home they used to live in; less of a home and more of a prison. She picks Oswald up and makes her way up the stairs, her son tugs at the necklace she wears as he looks around them. She softly sings as she walks down the hall, she comes to Elijah’s old bedroom, she enters the room and sets Oswald down on the bed. She lays down and sighs, she remembers countless nights sneaking into this room just to see him. She remembers feeling elated the second they would be alone together, the way he’d hold her in his arms and kiss her. He made her feel special, she didn’t feel like an object or shameful when she was with him. 

She remembers enjoying times his parents would leave to go to their parties and dinners. They would pretend this home was theirs alone, but still their time was spent exclusively curled up in this bed kissing and having sex. She enjoyed those times even if it pained her the day his mother found out about them.

She opens her eyes, she turns her head and looks at Oswald who is now curled up asleep. She sighs wondering how the Hell Elijah’s parents could be so adamantly against this child’s very existence. She remembers how they tried to make her leave, threatened her with deportation if she didn’t terminate the pregnancy and cut contact with her son. She very vividly remembers Elijah’s violent rage when she told him, she’d been scared, scared that his parents had some power that she wasn’t aware of. Still it amazed her that he chose her, chose them, and left all this behind.

Knocking on the door startles her from her memories. She pushes herself up onto her elbows and looks to see Elijah leaning in the doorway watching her.

“Is that man gone?” She asks.

He nods, he makes his way to the bed and lays down next to her. “Would you be okay with it if we move in here?” He asks her.

She reaches up touching her fingers against his jaw. “Is that what you want?”

Truthfully, she’s willing to do anything if it means being with him. She knows if they move back to Gotham, back into this mansion and accept what his parents left for him that they won’t have to worry about money again. Their son won’t have anything to worry about, he’ll be set for life.

“Honestly I’m not sure…..I kind of hate this place if I’m being honest. I keep thinking about my parents, about dad….Is it dumb that I’m scared that if we live here that I’ll be the kind of father he was?”

She kisses him gently wanting to assure him that he is not that man. “You aren’t your father, I know you’d never hurt our son. You’d never hurt me either.”

He places a hand against her side, fingers brushing against her side. He stares at her as if he’s thinking about it, considering if he really is that type of man or not. He leans in kissing her, lips lingering against hers.

“You realize if it wasn’t for you I’d be completely fucked.” 

She smiles feeling almost proud that she can have an influence on him. “I know. You’ll always have me, nothing changes that.” She reminds him, he knows this, but hearing her say those words makes him feel settled.

Gotham isn’t the place she really dreams of raising their son, but the biggest issue in their past is gone, that causes her to feel more secure in their situation, that possibly they can have a good life.


End file.
